


Do You?

by mldrgrl



Series: Adventures of The Lady Detective and The Writer [38]
Category: Californication (TV), The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M, Wedding Bells are Ringing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl





	Do You?

Time seemed to be moving unbearably slow for Stella.  Alone in the guest house, ready and waiting, she paced in front of the bed, unconsciously smoothing down the front of her dress every so often.  She didn’t know what was taking so long.  She could tell by the shadows in the room and the way the light hit the windows at the back of the main house that the sun had begun to set and that meant that Fish should have been here by now to collect her.

 

Finally, there was a series of fast raps at the door and she hurried to open it.  Fish stood grinning in a white polo shirt and khaki pants, holding a small Tiffany gift bag up near his face with his other hand behind his back.

 

“For the bride,” Fish said, presenting the Tiffany bag to Stella.  “As per instructions from the groom, read the card first.”

 

Stella slipped a card out from inside the bag and opened it up.  The card itself was plain white with her name written in gold calligraphy across the front.  Hank’s clipped and crisp handwriting was on the inside.

 

_ Something old, something new, something borrowed, something Stella blue… _

 

There were two boxes inside the bag and she pulled the Tiffany box out first and untied the white ribbon.  A pair of diamond earrings were nestled into the cotton lining.  They were platinum, the cluster of diamonds set like eight-point stars or flowers.  A placard was taped inside the lid.   _ Something new _ .

 

Stella hadn’t thought much about jewelry.  She didn’t wear it much to begin with and it never even occurred to her to wear any.  Hank probably knew that when he bought them.  They were small and unobtrusive, just how she liked it.  Before she opened the other box, she took a moment to put them on.

 

The second box was white and a little larger than the other.  It wasn’t tied or sealed in any way like the other, but inside was a black velvet pouch and another placard inside the lid.   _ This was my great-grandmothers and you’re borrowing it from Becca _ .

 

Stella opened the pouch and poured a silver pendant out into her palm.  The chain looked fairly new, but the pendant itself was a bit tarnished with age.  The pendant was round with a thin filigree design around the edges with an embossed tree branch and leaves floating across the upper midsection.

 

Fish held the Tiffany bag while Stella hooked the necklace.  The chain was short so that the pendant rested just below the hollow of her throat.  She touched it lightly wanting to turn around and look in the mirror at it, but stopped herself when Fish took the hand that had been hiding behind his back out and brandished a bouquet of  six blue-grey roses, the color of which she’d never seen on a rose before, tied with a white ribbon .

 

“Your something blue,” Fish said.

 

_ Something Stella blue… _

 

A girlish flush of heat swept through Stella as she took the flowers.  Just when she thought she was immune to sappy, romantic gestures, she surprised herself by feeling the sentimentality it so acutely.  

 

Fish put the little Tiffany bag on the dresser for her and gave her his arm.  She felt a sudden pang of sadness that her father wasn’t here to do this for her as she slipped her hand to the inside curve of Fish’s elbow.  Not that she agreed with the concept of being given away to a groom, but for the once in a lifetime moments, she’d always wished her father could be there.

 

“Number one,” Fish said.  “I have to tell you you look wicked frickin’ stunning.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And I have to ask, do you have any special requests?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I know the traditional mumbo jumbo is out, but is there something you’d like me to say or that you want to say before I send you off to marital bliss?”

 

“Did Hank make any special requests?”

 

“Oh, now I can’t tell ya that.”  He winked at her and gave her a smile.

 

“None I can think of.”

 

“You ready, then?”

 

“I’m ready.”

 

“Good, so answer me this,” Fish said, leading her out the door.  “A boat sinks and every single person is killed.  Who survives?”

 

“Married couples.”

 

“You got smarts for days, you know that?  I’ll never stump ya.”

 

“Keep trying,” she said, squeezing his arm just a little.  She liked his riddles.  

 

Stella lifted her eyes to the trees as Fish walked her down a little path made of stepping stones behind the guest house.  She had thought they would be doing this in the little gathering spot by the pool, but they were heading into the woods.  She was mildly disappointed.  One of the reasons she’d wanted to be married at sunset was that she so vividly recalled standing with Hank at the observatory and watching the sky melt from blue and pink to peach and orange to grey and black.  She knew he wouldn’t be convinced to have their wedding in LA, but she’d at least wanted to recapture that feeling of having ended a day with someone and knowing she would start the morning with them as well.

 

The trees broke suddenly and they were standing one what looked like the edge of a golf course.  The grass was well-trimmed and an unnatural shade of bright green.  It was slightly hilly, but open to a westward view.  The sun was just above the treetops in the distance, casting a golden glow in the wispy clouds that hung low in the fading light.  A few crickets had tentatively started to chirp nearby.  

 

There was no one else there.  Stella let her hand drop from Fish’s arm and looked around.  She hadn’t expected to arrive first.

 

“Where…” she said.  “I assumed he would be here already.”

 

“Um,” Fish answered, pulling out his phone from his pocket.  “They were supposed to be right behind me heading down when I went to get you.  Let me text Karebear.”

 

Before he made it through his text, they both turned as they heard Karen’s voice through the grove of trees behind them.  “Oh, dammit,” she said, emerging from the wooded area.   Even in a black peasant skirt and tank top, she looked elegant.   “I was trying to stop you.”

 

“Thought you guys were right behind me,” Fish said. 

 

“We were, we were!”  Karen threw one hand up in exasperation.  She had something rolled up and tucked under her other arm.  “But, you know,  _ someone _ had to second guess his attire for the umpteenth time.”

 

“That frickin’ chowderhead,” Fish said.

 

Stella’s brows pulled together as she frowned slightly.  They had talked about what Hank was going to wear a few weeks ago when he’d asked if she wanted him to pull the monkey suit out of mothballs.  He rarely dressed up; only when attending formal events with her.  She would rather he be himself, and she told him so.  She hoped he hadn’t had a change of heart about it.  Good as he looked in formal attire, she still preferred him casual and relaxed.

 

“Here.”  Karen unfurled what she had under her arm.  It was a thin rubber mat.  “I told them traipsing down to the country club was going to be a nightmare in heels.  Where do you want to stand?”

 

Stella was accustomed to being in a lot of nightmare places in heels and this wasn’t one of them.  “The view is lovely,” she said, scanning the immediate area for the best position, which he thought might be at the edge of the green where the light still fell.  “Here.”

 

The grass was soft and spongy where Karen set up the little mat for her.  It was definitely easier to stand on its unyielding surface than letting her shoes sink into the earth.

 

“Oh, well look who decided to show up,” Fish said.  “Lucky you, Moody, we were just going to marry your lady off to the first yo-yo to drive by in a golf cart.”

 

Stella looked up from adjusting her stance at where Hank was coming out of the woods holding Becca’s hand.  Her chest tightened and her heart knocked wildly against her breastplate.  He had on dark jeans and a black t-shirt under his leather jacket, looking every bit like the Hank Moody she first met at the hotel bar in London.  His jaw was stubbled with five o’clock shadow that she’d only recently noticed had begun to come in a salt and pepper shade. 

 

They locked eyes and Hank dropped Becca’s hand to rush forward.  “I’m sorry,” he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her soundly.  Stella couldn’t help but press herself against him and take a handful of his shirt at his chest.  His cologne was strong enough to have been freshly applied and when he pulled away she could still smell him on her.

 

“Hey, now,” Fish said.  “We haven’t got to the kiss the bride part of this yet.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Hank whispered to her again, his neck bent and forehead resting against hers.  “You look like a fucking dream.  I couldn’t help myself.”

 

Stella tipped her head back and then reached up to wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth with her thumb.  She ran a knuckle down the crease above her upper lip, afraid he’d smudged her as well, but Hank shook his head lightly.

 

“It’s perfect,” he said to her.

 

“All right, break it up, break it up,” Fish said.  “Let’s see if we can’t get you two hitched before we lose all daylight.”

 

Hank backed up a little and took Stella’s hand.  She put the roses up to her face for a moment to breathe them in.  The petals were soft and cool against her cheeks.  She hadn’t noticed before, when she then gave the bouquet for Becca to hold, that her soon-to-be stepdaughter was wearing a short-sleeved dress a dark shade of purple.  It was the first time she’d seen her in a dress and it made her look even smaller and younger than she already did.

 

“You look beautiful,” Stella told her.

 

“So do you.”  Becca smiled.  The leather band and compass were still on her wrist.

 

Stella gave Hank her other hand and though it was hard to tear her eyes away from his, she turned her head to look at Fish so they could start.

 

“Dearly beloved,” Fish said, dramatically, and then laughed at the horrified look on Hank’s face.  “Just fuckin’ with ya, Moody.”

 

“Ha fucking ha,” Hank said.

 

“Karebear, Beckster,” Fish said.  “Thank you for being witnesses to today’s events.  I’m only gonna ask if you do, and you do, and as long as you both say yes, we’ll be done.  But, Hank asked to say something before that, so Moody, take it away.”

 

Stella swallowed and looked at Hank.  He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles in reassurance.  They’d agreed not to write any vows and not knowing what he was up to made her a little wary.

 

“I just wanted to tell you,” Hank said.  “I had this whole thing I wanted to say.  I mean, I wrote a Pultizer prize winning essay about you.  Nobel Peace prize winning, even.  My words were so poignant, they could’ve fucking cured cancer.  Honestly.  But, I tore it all up because I knew you wouldn’t like me to publicly declare each and every reason why I love you.  I think you know, anyway.  And I think  _ I _ know, because we’re both here and this is happening.  So, let me just promise you one thing.  This doesn’t change things.  I loved you yesterday.  I love you today.  And I’m going to love you tomorrow.”

 

Hank let go of one of Stella’s hands and reached up to her face to put his hand on her cheek.  He left it there for just a few moments and then took her hand again and turned his head to look at Fish.

 

“Okay,” Hank said.  “Go ahead.”

 

“Wait,” Stella said.  She hadn’t taken her eyes off Hank’s face.  He turned back to her with his brows raised.  She glanced at Fish and then at Becca and Karen.  Becca had tears in her eyes and Karen had her arms around Becca’s shoulders, hugging her from behind.

 

“Stella?” Hank asked.

 

“I want to say something.”  She looked up and met his eyes.  “I promise that wherever we go from here, I will hold your hand.”

 

Hank took a deep breath and squeezed her hands as he smiled.  She squeezed back and returned his smile.  Eventually, she looked at Fish and nodded.

 

“Stella, do you have Hank’s ring?” Fish asked.

 

Stella let go of Hank’s hands and reached into the hidden pocket of her dress to pull get his ring.  Hank gave her his left hand and she slid it onto his fourth finger.  He looked at Becca when she was finished and Becca handed him Stella’s ring, which he slid onto her finger and then clasped her hand to his chest.

 

“Sherlock, do you take Watson as your husband and thereby the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet?” Fish asked.

 

It took a moment to register what Fish had said, but Stella closed her eyes and released a quiet laugh through her nose.  She dipped her head before she opened them and then raised her brow at Fish.

 

“Was that one of his special requests?” she asked.

 

Fish grinned and shrugged.  Hank gave her an innocent smile, but the sparkle in his eye was obvious.

 

“I do,” Stella said.

 

“Hank, you lucky SOB, do you take Stella as your wife?”

 

“Fuck yes, I do,” Hank answered.

 

“And I just want to say, from the bottom of my heart, it is my great honor to be part of this special day.  And, by the power invested in me by the state of Connecticut and ordain yourself dot com, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”

 

Hank wasted no time in cupping the back of Stella’s head and pulling her to him.  His mouth was on hers in the next instant, their tongues colliding and twisting together like the impatient and needy way they used to kiss back when they still lived on separate continents and weeks would pass between physical contact.  She whimpered a little when Hank moved his hands down to squeeze her hips, but she was well aware they weren’t alone and had to put a stop to this before they got carried away.

 

As soon as Stella broke their kiss and stepped back, Becca handed her the bouquet and then was between them, hugging her.  She wrapped one arm around Becca and tilted her head as Karen bent to kiss her cheek.  Fish was shaking Hank’s hand and grinning.  Hank pulled away and wrapped one arm around Stella and the other around Becca.  Stella could tell from his sigh that he was content.  She looked up at him and he told her with his smile that he wanted to keep the two most important things in the world to him in his arms just a little longer.

 

The light was fading quickly.  In the distance, the treetops were now black silhouettes against a yellow and grey backdrop.  Only a tiny sliver of yellow sun peeked up above the trees.

 

“Well,” Fish said, clapping his hands once and then rubbing them together.  “Steaks are marinating in the fridge.  Let’s go fire up the barbeque!”

 

Karen rolled her eyes a little, but laughed when Fish grabbed her around the waist and peppered her cheeks with kisses as he walked her towards the path back to the house.  Becca let go of Stella and slipped out from under Hank’s arm to follow.

 

“Grab the mat,” Karen called to Becca over her shoulder.

 

Becca stopped and pivoted back towards Hank and Stella.  Stella stepped off the little mat and Becca scooped it up and then hurried to join Karen and Fish.  Before they disappeared, Stella saw Fish take the mat from Becca and put his hand on her shoulder. 

 

“We did it,” Hank said, when they were alone.

 

“We did,” she agreed.

 

“Think we have time for a little honeymoon action before we’re called to dinner?”

 

“I would like to change.  It’d be a shame for the dress to be ruined by a splash of marinade.”

 

Hank ran his hands down the back of her shoulders to her hips and leaned into her.  “I think I’ve found something I like you in even more than your uniform.”

 

She made a slight humming noise and then raised up to kiss his jaw.  “I think you’ll like what’s under it even more,” she murmured into his ear before slipping her hand in his and taking him towards the woods.

 

The End

  
  
  



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